The Sword of a King
by Ataralassie
Summary: Just a random idea I had. What happened to Feanor's sword after he died?


Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. It's all either Tolkien's or from Arthurian Legend. I just do this for fun.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you Kanafinwë." the old man said as he sat on a rock a few feet away from the harper.

The harper stopped playing. His looks were those of a handsome young man with long dark hair and gray eyes, though if you looked into those eyes you'd see ages worth of memory and sorrow. He didn't look at the old man, "It's been a long time since anyone has seen me." he sighed, plucked a few more notes and then spoke again. "I thought you went west. What brings back to Arda?"

The old man shrugged. "I have a new job to do here. Actually, that's why I need to talk to you."

He was silent, as though waiting for the harper to speak again. No words came. "Your oddly silent." the old man remarked.

The harper just stared off into the distance. "They call it Venus now." was all he said.

The old man looked at the star in question and grunted. "Your foster-son sends his greetings by the way."

The harper nodded. "And is he doing well? First his brother and then his daughter...loss like that..." he shook his head and started playing a slow, sweet, yet sad song.

"They made the choice for themselves. But yes, he is well enough." the old man said

It was silent for a while longer. "What is it you want from me Olórin?"

The old man sighed. "Do you isolate yourself here? Have you gotten much news of the goings on of the world?"

The harper smirked, "A bard is nothing without his stories. I try to keep up. Men are such a war-like race though, and I have given that up long ago." He sighed, "It has led me to nothing but sorrow. There are other stories though."

"Such as?"

The harper smirked, "You seem to be keeping busy. The two dragons? The sword in the stone? You are going by Merlin now, yes?"

"Of course. Who else would it be? Curumo? "

The harper looked across the moonlit beach, "What does that have to do with anything though?"

"You have heard of Arthur then?" The old man said, apparently ignoring the harper's question.

"The boy king, yes I have. Who has not? You are guarding him and guiding him. Yes?"

"Good, you _are _keeping up."

"But what does this have to do with me? I have faded, nothing now but a simple bard. A shore-land harper."

"Have you heard of Sir Pellinor?"

"Perhaps." The harper moved his hard towards his hip, as though reaching for a sword. He didn't like where this was going.

"My young charge dueled with this knight-"

"You _let _ him? The strongest knight in the land and you _let_ him?"

"He is of course _fine_," the old man continued on, pointedly ignoring the harper's sudden outburst, "unfortunately less could be said for his sword."

"No." the harper didn't look at the old man. "No, I can't. Don't you understand? It's all I have left of them."

A breeze blew of the ocean whipping around the old man's long silver-gray beard. He looked at the harper with pity, "I know."

"Why then? _Why?_ It belonged to my father, _my father_. And then my brother after. I know we were fools, selfish idiots, kinslayers, murderers. Ruled by our own pride and arrogance. But really? They were my family and this, this is all I have left...I...I can't."

"I know I ask much. But you must, without Arthur the world will fall into a state of darkness the like of which hasn't been seen since Morgoth."

The harper gritted his teeth. "Don't say that name around me."

"Kanafinwë, please."

"Swords aren't Silmarills! Any good blacksmith can make one!"

"Not like this one."

"My brother pulled this from the ashes of my father's body. When he threw himself into the fiery depths of the earth he didn't take his own sword he took this one."

The harper shook his head. "I tried to stop him. I tried to..." his voice was barely above a whisper.

"What happened?"

"I fought him, disarmed him, grabbed him, I tied to hold him back..." the harper shut his eyes as the memory came back to him like a wave during a storm.

_"Russandol! What are you doing?_" _ He asked as he struggled to keep his brother from running off again._

_"I can't do this anymore..no...I've seen so much, done so much. It burns me, a constant reminder... Ai! To be free of this curse...to be free of this oath!" His brother was muttering, it seemed more to himself than anyone. Half crazed and desperate he broke away...._

_In the red glow of the lava Maedhros looked like a twisted beast. "Father! I hope your pleased!" And with that he threw himself into the earth._

Theharper tried to hide the tears he felt filling his eyes."In his madness he left the sword, not that he needed it anymore. I took it, I don't know why, a reminder I suppose." He pulled the sword out and examined it. "It has done so much harm..._we_ have done so much harm."

"Perhaps now it can do some good." the old man said

"Perhaps..." the harper handed the sword to the old man. He sighed, "You will need this as well" he said taking off the sword's sheath and handing it also to the old man.

"The sword of a king." the old man muttered taking it. "The Lady will take good care of this until Arthur and I come to retrieve it."

"The Lady?"

"Of the Lake."

"Why not just give it too him?"

"He will ask to many questions and I do not think he is ready to hear of the history of this sword yet. Does it have a name?"

The harper gave a bitter laugh, "For the past few ages I've been calling it _A__garchol_, blood burden, but it's proper name is _Norgail_."

"Excalibur." the old man muttered, belting the sword to his waist. "Thank you Maglor. You have no idea how important this is." With that the old man got up and started on his way.

The harper began to play again, "No Gandalf," he muttered "_You_ have no idea how important this is to _me._"


End file.
